Look After You
by Adriana DiVolpe
Summary: Cuddy was curled up in the corner of the couch, face buried against her arms, body trembling with pitiable sobs.'


**Look After You**

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**House peered through the glass door of Cuddy's office. She wasn't at her desk.

He was about to leave when he noticed something that made him push the door open.

Cuddy was curled up in the corner of the couch, face buried against her arms, body trembling with pitiable sobs.

"Cuddy?" he called to her, closing the doors behind him.

"Go away," came the muffled reply.

Approaching the couch, he tentatively laid a hand on Cuddy's shaking shoulder, prodding her gently. "Cuddy, what's wrong?"

"What do you care?"

"Come on Cuddy, of course I care." He sat down next to her on the couch, tucked some of her hair away from her face.

She shuddered, inhaling deeply. "I lost it," she choked out, voice muffled by the arm of the couch.

"What?" He rubbed her upper arm softly. "Cuddy, I can't understand you."

She straightened abruptly, turning her tear-streaked face to look at him. "I lost it," she repeated harshly, voice breaking. "I was pregnant. I lost it." She turned her eyes from him, muttering bitterly, "Are you happy now?"

House wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against his chest. "Cuddy, that's awful."

She broke down despite herself, giving in to House's newfound concern, as unlikely as it was. She clung to him as though it would assuage some of her pain, fingers digging into his back, throat raw from sobbing. Tears leaked onto the front of House's shirt.

House stroked her back soothingly, running his fingers through the curls of her hair. "It'll be okay, Cuddy. It's not the end of the world."

She cried harder, her small body trembling pitifully against him. "I—" she choked out, unable to finish her sentence. "I—"

"Shh," House whispered, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He brushed her hair back from her neck, holding her close to him reassuringly.

Several minutes passed, and Cuddy's sobbing slowed, her breathing becoming more even, wet tracks on her cheeks beginning to dry. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not fair." Her voice was raspy.

He swiped a trail of tears away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

A short sob tore itself from her. "I don't understand, House. I just… I did everything right, I… I don't…" New tears began to well in her eyes. "Why?" she choked out.

House rubbed her upper back soothingly. "Shhhh."

"I guess…" Cuddy sniffed. "I guess I was just never meant to be a mother…" Her voice broke near the end.

A loud ringing began resounding from House's pocket. "Would you hold that thought. This could be important." He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "House."

Cuddy sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"No, I'm not busy." House sat back on the couch. "Not much."

Cuddy looked at House in disbelief. She was crying, pouring her soul out to him, and he answers his phone? And then he has the balls to say that he's not busy? A loud sob escaped her throat.

House looked over then turned away, hoping to shield any further noise she might make from the phone. "Naw, that's just Cuddy. I don't know, something about babies probably, I wasn't really paying attention."

How dare he! Wasn't paying attention? Cuddy folded her arms across her chest.

"Probably. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, glancing quickly over at Cuddy. "Yeah."

Cuddy turned her head to look at the wall. Was he talking about her?

"So…" House started in a more seductive tone. "What are you wearing?"

Cuddy's jaw dropped. What the hell was wrong with this man?

"Lab coat, eh? You know I like that." House stood from the couch, grinning. "Are you wearing those pants I like?" House bit his lip. "That is so much better."

Cuddy glared. House and whatever slut of a doctor he was talking to were going to get so many clinic hours.

"Me?" House smiled. "Same type of thing I always wear, t-shirt, dress shirt and jeans." There was a pause. "I know you do, you think my ass looks good in them, that's why I wear them."

Cuddy's eyes involuntarily lowered to the seat of House's pants. Her eyebrows knotted in confusion and she looked back up. What kind of crazy woman was he talking to?

House chuckled and took a seat in Cuddy's desk chair. "Why do you think I like foosball?" He lifted his feet onto the desk.

"So anyway, what are we doing tonight? You are? You think you can get out of it?" He paused a moment. "That wasn't really a question. Do I really need to remind you why you'd rather blow it off and spend the night with me?" House smirked. "I didn't think so. Hey, yeah, that's a good idea. I think my shower is big enough."

Cuddy scrunched her face in disgust. It was bad enough he was somehow simultaneously ignoring her and making fun of her, but now he thought he could sit here in front of her, in _her_ office, and discuss his kinky little sex games with whatever girlfriend he'd managed to round up? She was probably a prostitute. Cuddy silently wished he'd get herpes. She knew it wasn't very nice of her, but House didn't know what the word 'nice' was. Not unless it was immediately followed by the word 'ass' or 'rack'. God, she hated him so much right now. She cautiously allowed the conversation to tune back in, ready to tune right back out again if she heard one word about handcuffs or crotchless panties.

"No, I know. I love you too." He rolled his eyes, as though saying this caused him embarrassment. Cuddy cleared her throat loudly.

He looked over at her for the first time in several minutes, making a face somewhere between a scowl and a smirk.

"All right," he said into the phone, standing from her chair and picking up his cane. He stuck his tongue out at Cuddy, who tried to kick him but missed as he stepped backward.

"Okay. See you in a minute, Wilson." He flipped his phone closed and limped away without so much as a glance at Cuddy, who had opened her mouth to yell at him a moment ago, but now found she'd forgotten what she was going to say. Her wide eyes stared at the opposite wall, not quite focusing properly. She momentarily forgot to breathe, forgot to blink, forgot that House was an impossible asshole who was going to get so many clinic hours he'd never see the outside of this hospital until 2012.

Wilson?

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_You have just read a gay story. Congratulations._


End file.
